So, after running from the wind like it was the villain in a B-movie, we found ourselves in Harlowton, Montana, tucked away at Chief Joseph Park. This place is a hidden gem—beautifully maintained by the town (and when I say maintained, I mean the locals literally drove by to check on us). We rushed over here to hunker down and avoid being blown off the road, but when we arrived, it was so serene we wondered if we’d somehow misread the wind warning and were just being a bit dramatic.

The park itself? Gorgeous. A vast space with a long pond winding through it like the scenic backdrop of a nature documentary. There’s even an old railway museum at one end. Sadly, closed for the season, but still cool to stare at and wonder what might have been. Our first night? Completely uneventful—just peaceful walks, jaw-dropping views, and us questioning both our sanity and the weather app. “Where’s this ‘horrific wind’ we were so scared of?”

We double-checked the app (because hey, maybe it was wrong), and nope—those wind warnings were real. So, like responsible RVers, we battened down the hatches, packed up anything that could fly away (looking at you, lawn chairs), and settled in for what we were sure would be a calm night. Spoiler alert: it was not calm. The second night, the wind came howling down into our little valley like a banshee auditioning for a heavy metal band. Despite our leveling jacks being firmly in place, the Raven rocked like we were on the boat in the movie “The Perfect Storm”. John will be playing the part of George Clooney. Sleep? Forget about it. But not because George Clooney was next to me, the wind! The wind! We were wide-eyed, listening to nature’s angry tantrum all night long – well George was sleeping soundly.

By morning, we weren’t the only ones who had figured out the roads were impassable. A few more big rigs joined our little wind-ravaged camp, huddling together for safety like we were all part of some RV apocalypse. This apocalyptic analogy started to really makes sense when two large men showed up with two tiny tents. The wind had calmed down slightly by then, but not enough to make us brave the roads, so we hunkered down for a third night. By then, we were pretty much honorary Harlowton residents.

Turns out, we also learned why there were so many RVs with only one or two people and no families around—it’s hunting season in Montana. We had a quick chat with a couple of our new neighbors, who, shockingly, weren’t fleeing from the wind like us but were here on purpose to hunt. Different strokes, I guess.

On the plus side, John the Rockstar husband Laverty finally got the drone up and captured a beautiful panoramic of the park. Stay tuned for the footage—if the wind didn’t blow the drone into the next county!